Sitting on the toilet, you couldn't believe you were doing this. You'd been feeling...off lately, and that could only mean one thing...a baby—inside you.

Rafe, who was only supposed to be a one-time thing, had a very big chance of being the father, and of course, you needed to check—you had to.

You're waiting, biting your lip, hard. Your heart was racing, could it really be? As time continues to pass you by, you see a slight change in the stick, one line...then another.

Two lines. Two fucking lines. You were pregnant.

And Rafe was the father.

You whipped out your phone, scrambling to find his contact, which of course, was at the very bottom of your contact list. Your fingers typed at rapid speed, writing out the message that would change both of your lives forever.

You: Rafe. You need to come, now.

You hit the send, and your hand was trembling, while the other was clutching the stick tightly. "Fuck," You mumbled to yourself. How were you going to balance this, on top of everything?

Dots. Three of them, he was typing. You sighed in relief, at least he wanted to talk to you.

Rafe: What is it? Can't you tell me over text? You: Please, come. Rafe: Tell me.

You scowl at his stubbornness, why can't he just come over here? You run a hand through your hair, staring down at your stomach in complete, utter shock. Damn it, you need him here. Right now.

After a couple of moments, you decided the only way to get him to come over was by telling the truth to him straight.

You picked up your phone again, your world spinning, your fingers slowly typed out the message, and you didn't even bother reading it over as your thumb hit send.

You: I'm pregnant. It's yours. Rafe: I'm on my way.